


Incidentally

by orphan_account



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Mild Language, Minor Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Platonic Romance, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6307018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagura didn't ask for a life of crime - she asked for the star of inhabitable freedom Papi always talked about, and the place Mami always dreamed of taking her to. Instead, she's trapped working for the yakuza under Inoue's command. For 17 years she either lived with herself, by herself, or against herself. If change came through the "saving grace" of the Shinsengumi's sudden involvement, the last thing she'd do is willingly cooperate with that bastard first captain. It so happened that she had no other choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As far as locals go, don’t go looking like a tourist in a crime syndicate!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware other mafia AUS exist so I'm not going to go about saying this area of AU-ing is original. But it's different in its own respect.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”Which means...there’s still some fun left for the vultures.” Kagura backed up, inching as quietly as she could away, her hands searching for some kind of escape from a mess the yakuza would cause her yet again. Hopefully, she wasn’t the only one on the verge of dying for a sin she didn’t commit.

Lukewarm gusts blew past, Kagura held an umbrella high, and leaned against a vendor’s post. Assignment after assignment, she wished she found an empty bench to sleep in all day instead. Lazy cops and MADAOS have nowhere better to go, apparently.

After showing Yamazaki the ropes for the past week, Inoue decided the next best thing was double-assigning them to act as lookout during member congregations with a moron and chump in the daytime. In other words, busywork, especially when they were useless; the best thing Yamazaki could do was haggle for food on the way back, and even that was boring to listen to.

"...really?! Your grandson enjoys badminton too?"

“Yes, yes, he's very successful. Do you know him?”

“No ma’am!”

At this point, Yamazaki was far from the topic of changing the price, smiling at the very thought of badminton. Jeez, just how many times did he get beat up in school anyway?  Eyes drooping over as Yamazaki talked to the saleslady, Kagura spared a glance at their other member of the day.

"Shachi," she said, sounding far away, "if Inoue had inori in one hand, or egg on rice in the other, which would you choose?"

Their stomachs growled at the mention of food.

"Neither. Why wait now? I take what I can get," he draped an arm over a bug-eyed wide Yamazaki. "Right, Obaa-san?" Old but high-spirited, her eyes wrinkled in laughter, Shachi taking advantage of it and thieving.

“G-get off me already!”

With the old woman’s sight obscured by Yamazaki’s, he inched closer to her stand, a hand close to whatever she was selling. Kagura cheered mentally.

_Go, Shachi! To  hell with egg on riiiiice!_

Yamazaki slapped Shachi’s hand. Shamefully, he drew back, being forced into a bow by the other boy.  

_Buzzkill like always, Jimmy._

"I saw that! Don't use Obaa-san like that!" Yamazaki spat at Shachi, apologizing to the store lady. "Kagura-san, help me—what are you doing?!"

"Here, here, old hag," Kagura waved a yen coin in her hand. "If ya' keep quiet 'bout this I'll let you off the hook, yes?"

Shachi shoved Yamazaki aside. "That's right, lady! Your life or your goods?"

"Well, well, aren't you youngsters hasty? If you wanted something, all you needed to do was ask," she smiled.

“You’re way too kind to thieves, you know.” Yamazaki scrunched his nose,  splayed his hands in futility, and gave the three of them a hard stare. Kagura flashed a thumbs-up, a grin meeting the ends of her face. Looking at her, wounded from whatever robbery or heart attack they were about traumatize the old lady for, he might as well have been begging for outright _mercy_. Kagura widened her eyes as she assessed him, and gazed up, a fist connecting against her palm.

She tilted her head, pensive. “I see! We forgot to say ‘please, old hag’! How thoughtful of you, Zaki, I’ll root for your promotion.”

“That’s right! Sorry, Obaa-san! Hey, bro, what’re you gawking around for? Apologize to Gran!” Shachi held her wrist and shoulder, guiding her back under the shade, shooting disgust to the only morally right person there.

If Yamazaki could cry, he would have.

He watched as his only hope, Kagura, begged for food with Shachi. Some people just took kindness for granted and he should’ve expected as much, especially when he agreed to dine with them. He exhaled an exasperated breath at his feet. If only he had pushed to head straight back to their headquarters instead.

Of all the spy jobs he’s seen, Jackie-chan with anti-foreigner terrorists, or cross-dressing for the sake of saving the Shinsengumi’s Chief-for-a-day pop idol, this had to be the most demandingly turbulent. Morally, at least.

Nothing could’ve been more baneful than stealing from an old woman. Earlier, Kagura lit up at the idea of wrestling for the last piece of candy at the last store they stopped at. That is how low cronies of the yakuza could stoop to—desperate measures.

Although a week of this was all he’d endured so far, he kissed his reputation of being amicable, plain, and boring goodbye. This being true, he refused to let the new leaf he had turned long ago to go to waste. He had a job to do, and he was going to get to the bottom of whatever Inoue and his yakuza had in mind with their activities.

Exclamations of astonishment vibrated in the air. “Whoa, your grandson also owns a restaurant? Do ya’ think he’d let us eat there for 300 yen? I overheard a curly haired samurai gave people 300 yen for toiletries once!”

Yamazaki didn’t have the heart to tell her how much trouble that Yorozuya boss proved to be, or that he practically scammed everyone with his 300 yen.

Positioning a palm against his temples, Yamazaki pursed his lips. “I give up. I really give up. I'm gonna quit this job. I wanna go home.”

This time, instead of being ignored, he heard a rustle of plastic bags and the crunch of food standing next to him, right by his ear. Kagura patted his shoulder, not in the least offended. “I wish I could tell you all the crap I’ve been fed, ‘you’ll get used to it’’s gonna be a thing you’re gonna hear a lot. It’s tough. I hate it. This country’s hot and cold, like how you choose between noodles!” She became possessed with a sudden excitement at the thought of noodles and spit crumbs on his cheeks, Yamazaki rubbing it away, trying hard to let her words sink in.  

She _was_ onto something, right?

She started walking ahead, Shachi pushing Yamazaki along until they caught up with her.

Kagura looked up, a tiny lilt in her voice, “You’re an idiot for choosing this. You don’t get to choose how to live your life sometimes. I don’t know why anyone would and I can tell you don’t know why either. That’s okay. Let’s all struggle.” While Kagura never let up her tone, Yamazaki hesitated to respond, letting the setting sun answer their questions. Shachi nodded as if he'd heard the voice of Siddhartha while Kagura began to hum to a children’s theme.

They spotted the headquarters up ahead, Inoue probably waiting to tell them off before he’d let Kagura off onto her night-shifts.

As Kagura and Shachi headed out, biding Yamazaki a good rest, he couldn’t help but wonder if his yakuza mentor was meant for this life. Shachi, he could tell, was in the stages of reforming (the only reason he was called Shachi the Killer was because of his killer drawing skills and attitude) and a subject of Inoue’s under a mutual friend. However, he never asked Kagura about how long or why she endured the yakuza in the first place—the temper tantrums she’d have after arguing with Inoue were endless.

Yamazaki scratched his neck. He’d have to spare her from the details in his report to the captain the next time he’d see him, then. She might've been harsh towards him, but for what it was worth, she wasn't a villain.

First, though, Yamazaki needed more material before he’d report anything back.

**...**

The soft clatter of hollow shipments and boxes snagged her attention. Kagura’s body froze.

She gulped. “Who’s there?” Surprisingly, her voice came out harsh but even, her eyes were picking up movement in its peripheral vision; that spelled nothing but trouble. No answer.

A heartbeat pumping the rush in her veins, a steady eye creeping to its source, she found the willpower to move—it was her job to act when necessary. She wasn’t about to slack off; apparently, today’s transaction included a special label to it. Smuggle? Illegal dealings? She swore she saw someone from a rival gang before she was kicked out. While the law didn’t concern her, she had her own suspicions behind Inoue’s recent assignments, his shadiness partly to blame. But no matter whatever that moron was planning, she would have to pick her pride and curiosity with her and listen to whatever he barked at her. Being the yakuza’s greatest defense—and to her regret, their greatest offense—she was stationed as their guard dog. A fire set in her and she turned to where the noise came from…

...only to find the newbie stumbling from out of the dark corners.

"Oh. Zaki." Kagura relaxed her body. “Oi, I thought Inoue told you to stay back. You wanna die?” Earlier, she had caught Yamazaki, tip-toeing away from her “orientation” about how things were run around here. It was obvious he had a different agenda since he started working for the yakuza two weeks back, but at the same time, Yamazaki seemed harmless.

“U-uh, I’ll have you know—”

A louder crashing noise sounded from behind them. They stopped all movement, all breaths, all conversation. Oh.

“If you’re here…” Kagura wheeled in time to watch cargoes topple behind them, kicking Yamazaki and herself out of the way. By the time Kagura looked up, she wasn’t surprised to see readied officers at the scene. The usual local ones, the kind who were stationed at stores and the like.

"Ow, ow..." Yamazaki straightened his back and rubbed his neck free from pain.

Seconds after the last box fell, officers with their hands to their sheaths in the middle of becoming swords came running forward. Suddenly, she was thankful for choosing to wear her usual pants underneath her qiapo as she quietly went to meet them halfway. Lights flooded from the space they charged from, and Kagura was hopping from officer to officer, shoving them into each other or disabling their weapon. Out of the corner of her eye, Yamazaki, most of the time, struck his opponents with the blunt end. He stood across from her, holding his own ground fair enough. It was something she found herself satisfied with—one less person to account for.

She dodged an attack to her stomach, kicking his body down in one fell swoop. He fell on his back, squinting in the dim-setting. Thankfully, her face wasn’t comprehensible in the dim-lit aftermath of post-sunset, but her attacks were. A cop grabbed her leg, dragged her down, and pressed the butt of his sword against her. A spit in his face and a mouthful of a heavy swing, he was down in moments.

To make things even more troublesome, an alarm sounded in the distance, lights flashing.

“Kagura!” One of the yakuza members.

_Shit._ Kagura grabbed a frantic fistful of an officer, his eyes dizzy. “Who did you call? Back-up? I thought you low-class dogs couldn’t afford cars with the tax money you waste, huh?”

He cracked a grin and gripped her wrist, “Jouishi aren’t ones to talk, young lady.”

“Did you hit your head? It’s the yakuza. What’s that supposed to—”

The man was wrenched from her grip, a sturdier man replacing him and grabbing Kagura roughly by the shoulder. She made a point to glare at his hand, but she also didn’t miss the cases the men behind him were rushing to secure. Somehow, in the mess, she lost Yamazaki. She tried glancing around for him, but apparently, _someone_ ’s _angry._

“You snide bitch! This is your fault!” He practically got his spit all over her. She deadpanned and wiped it off, shoving his hand off of her. As often as she helped the very men she worked with, her efforts were always left unsung. They hated her position and disgustingly thought-to-be "kiss-up" to Inoue, a title she was more than willing to give away. Being liked wasn't what she cared for anyway. He spit on her more, “You think yer’ special ‘cause you assigned some jobs from bro? I’ll teach ya a lesson to sell us out!”

“Shut up, you garbage. I did my job. I saved your asses.”

He looked ready to argue until someone hollered, “They’re here! Let’s bounce, slowpokes! Get caught, you’re on your own.” Disgruntled, the guy had it left in him to push past Kagura and run away, far ahead. She rolled her eyes, annoyed and in a mood over her treatment, puffing her cheeks, and running for an obscure area to escape from.

“This is the police!” A dull voice echoed against the darkening sky. “As well as a raid. I highly suggest showing yourselves.”When there was no response—who would be that stupid anyway?— whatever the policeman was using to amplify his voice clattered against the concrete. By now, everyone had quietly found cover. From what Kagura could tell, the voice sounded near, footsteps walking past her.

_Like hell I wanna deal with the cops._

Another set of casual footfalls followed. “Looks like they beat us to the bloodbath before us,” a half-disappointed _tsk_ followed. Kagura furrowed her eyebrows. She stooped and snuck a peek from the corner. “Oh well. I was looking forward to it, too.” Yellow strips of caution tape wrapped by a large shipment container, the metal door knocked down. Another thing she noted—they were wearing black and gold lining uniforms. As the compatriots of her organization called them, ShigeShige's lapdogs.

_More like a buncha' tax robbers. Get back to your jobs, stupid._

“Yeah, yeah, try not to have too much fun on the job.” Smoke billowed from a cigarette, the darker haired man throwing it against the pavement. “Say, Sougo…”

A familiar _shing_ cracked the air.

“It’s fresh.”

Kagura silently cursed her moronic co-workers.

Sougo stood up and looked around.”Which means...there’s still some fun left for the vultures.” _Just how seriously does this guy take his job?!_ Kagura backed up, inching as quietly as she could away, her hands searching for some kind of escape from a mess the yakuza would cause her _yet again._  Hopefully, she wasn’t the only one on the verge of dying for a sin she didn’t commit. Maybe not that last part, only because everyone in the yakuza were sickos, but still. Someone else better be here or else she was good as mincemeat. Squeezing her eyes shut, she mutely clapped her hands together.

_Santa, I promise to be a good girl and if I get through this I promise I won’t hurt a mosquito ever again—_

Two pairs of hands grabbed her back, and she swore up and down she almost beat the living daylights out of whoever was at her back—if it was one of those black coated dogs she would seriously—

She turned around, greeted by the newbie’s face, along with Shachi, an equally useless companion.

“Oi, what’s the meaning of this, Santa?” she muttered lesser than a whisper, Yamazaki motioning with his hands to move out and to _shhhh_. “Why’re you still here too, you dumbass?” she asked a little louder.

Yamazaki spazzed, his hand motions clearing screaming, _shhhhh!_

Kagura turned to Shachi. "And you, what's innit for you, punk?"

“Let’s just get out of here,” Shachi hissed as they scrambled to the getaway. "It's what your brothers do."

"Don't call me your sister, scumbag."

Halfway through the area, Shachi yelped from ramming his leg into a sharp debris, loud enough for an officer to shout. Kagura paused and gestured for him to get up, “Pull yourself together!” Pain sliced her for a second. A gunshot grazed her, another hitting barely at her lower calf. She winced and saw Shachi buckle over.

Blood soaked his shirt. The third shot had made it to Shachi’s lower abdomen and he wasn't taking the wound too well. With each passing step, he was falling further and further behind them.

“Apprehend as many criminals as you can!” the smoker from earlier commanded. His voice was far-off, but not enough for them to escape right away.

She motioned for Shachi to pick up the pace, the flashing lights edging into her vision, shining on the feet of a few officers on their tail.

“Dammit! If only I had Satoru-kun’s Revival [1]!” Shachi stumbled, clenching his teeth. “I...I don’t know if I can keep it up. Go on without me! Shachi the killer...I deserve this sentencing anyway!”

“Shachi, what’re you saying?! You’re too stupid to know how to get away with murder!”

“I don’t think that was his point!” Yamazaki pointed out how much closer the Shinsengumi officers were from before. “Anyway, they’re right behind us!”

Kagura cursed loudly and Shachi groaned. Several pairs of feet were growing louder by the second, but Kagura was pulled on by Yamazaki. “Leave him, we’ll be dragged down too!”

She ran to keep up with his pace, Yamazaki helping her. Despite the pulsating throb pressuring her calf, she took it as a sign to work with her other leg harder.

She was yato, dammit.

“Lay off, I don’t need a chump’s help!” She looked back, the dim lights glowing against the dark sky growing smaller and smaller the deeper they weaved through town.

Yamazaki indignantly huffed, ignoring her. “I told you to be quiet, right? Right?!” he wasn’t holding back, grabbing her elbow and shuffling into an alley. “Now they’ve got Shachi—”

_Boom!_

Kagura finally shook Yamazaki off, “Shachiiiii! Noooo! You were too dumb to die!”

“Is that really all you have to say for yourself?!” He gaped but didn't slow his pace. Under the cover of smoke, they sprinted faster.

**...**

An explosion boomed in everyone’s ears. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” Hijikata vehmeted, directing his anger at none other than the first division captain.

“What was what, Hijikata-san?” Sougo innocently asked, hiding the bazooka behind him.

“Don’t lie to me, you bastard! Because of you, one of the criminals got away!” The vice-chief turned around to bark at his subordinates, “You guys, what’re you standing around for? Look for him!” With a bent onwave of the hand, they all nodded; the Vice-chief’s word apparently indisputable. Sougo almost pointed out how nearly everyone, save for the oddly scarred-on-the-forehead guy and three other people, were caught. He shook his head.

Sougo began to inch away from his superior, hoping to find something else worth his time. The yakuza were criminals but their business in drug smuggling held no value to him or the Shinsengumi. Although, the murder aspect did intrigue him.There were two other people Sougo swore he saw got away. From what he heard, three gunshots went off—where did the second one hit? Nothing else reverberated or smacked the cargo or pavement. His best guess involved somewhere low; Seizou was always a lousy shot.

Unfortunately, Hijikata didn’t miss whatever shenanigans Sougo was about to pull. He redirected his attention to him and shouted, “And you! You’ve earned yourself another hour of patrol!”

Die, Hijikata-san.

**_..._ **

Once they found safety in the backroom of their scattered bases in Kabukicho, Kagura peered in the nearest closet in search of any bandages. Once she found the right supplies, she bit her lip as the stinging dulled in her legs.

They stood in a tense silence, the night catching up to them. He looked over her bounded wound, wondering about how easily she walked her injury off. He had half a mind to ask her, but Kagura beat talking to him when she turned around. Finding Yamazaki in the midst of catching his breath, she leaned against the closet wall, “Zaki...what’s your deal? Why come back? Were you even assigned for that job?”

He scratched his cheek, trying not to look her in the face. “Er...not really.”

“You tryin’ to get yourself killed? Are you a MADAO now? Scum of society?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that! I was curious, curious!”

"If you wanted to see what the afterlife was like, the least you could've asked was for me to assist you in your suicide."

"All you're doing is putting me down!”

“Damn right you should be,” she couldn't look any more bored at the thought of 'putting him down'. 

_So this is what defeat feels like._

Yamazaki shook his head. A half-truth would be enough…

“I'm saying that I was curious and decided to see how your regular jobs were like, alright?”

She sighed, her explosive banter proving itself to be ephemeral as her features relaxed. Looking up at the grey and bland ceiling, Kagura considered the newbie for a second.

Then, she shrugged. “I’ll help you.” Out of the blue, she pushed herself off the wall and leaned forward. “I get it. You’re curious, so am I. But if you find anything out, tell me, got it?”

“Eh?” He blinked. Had she caught on?

“I know as much as you do, you know,” she picked at a roll of lint on her pants. “And I want to get to the bottom of whatever’s Inoue’s planning  too, uh-huh. Most I know is that he struck up some drug smuggle with those space pirates—”

His surprise couldn't be any more obvious. He gasped, “No way! The Harusame?”

She flicked the lint at him. “Look who’s turn to _SHHHHHHH_ now, uh-huh!”  She said it more mockingly than anything but Yamazaki flinched and brushed it off anyway, muttering complaints. “But yeah. That’s all you’re getting out of me. Now pay up.”

“What? You mean you weren’t doing it to be nice?"

She laughed hollow.

“Which side are you on anyway?” There lacked ill-will in his tone, but she couldn’t resist the urge to turn away.

“My own,” she said, opening the door, “now let’s go find a late night snack.”


	2. If your store gets robbed, you only have yourself to blame!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reactively, his hand shot for his sword, as she did with her umbrella, a tool he had recognized from his studies. That, and from the stories of Umibozu.  
>  _Yato._

It felt stupid, sitting there, mentally choking the man in front of her, as he checked off lists about everything that went down the other night. The clamor the headquarters buzzed with the next day never exhausted, and Kagura, clueless about what the shogun’s lapdogs saw in a hollowed out container, grit her teeth. Obviously, Inoue chose not to tell her. Out of fear and masculinity, she suspected, he left her in the dark, guarding worthless, illegal fools for the sake of building up his business.

All the while, he had the nerve to call her up like nothing had happened. Assigning mundane task after task, she wondered how much she would endure to appease him.

Their group was influential; he had to maintain an image (as dirtied and coy as it was). And for reasons Kagura couldn't escape or dare rebutt, this was where she was tied down.

Watching Inoue talk for at least an hour... Kagura wasn’t sure how much more of it she was willing to take.

“—and with the new guy in tow, we need you there. Pretty please?”

She had inhaled and exhaled like Yamazaki said, somehow catching her fire earlier. Even chumps could be useful sometimes, especially when Inoue got impatient and stubborn. No meant _no_ and Inoue never was the type to understand it anyway; he usually found a way to get what he wanted.

With a nonchalant air, an attitude already primed with a type of duty, she glanced at Inoue. More annoyed than shocked, she couldn’t hold back her indignant snark; placing papers on a table, begging, with puppy eyes to boot didn’t always work.

“What? You’re too wimpy to solve problems yourself?"

He was asking for her help every other day, if not her, someone else. A lot of the time, there was no reward for following orders. Inoue was a man who expected many things for doing little, and somehow, Kagura had ended up on that train. Ordering her around like she was some dog.

Inoue laughed. The liquid in his glass danced along to his steady, swaying hand. Cocky bastard with that cocky perm and cocky sunglasses. He was making light of her, wasn’t he?

“That’s why we need you,” Inoue said, triumph already written on his lips. “To take care of _our_ business in my absence.”

Kagura grimaced. _Don’t talk to me like I’m something important to you._ “Where are you going? You do nothing but boss your own men around all day, yes? Gambling and kicking puppies isn’t anything to go absent for.”

Her eyes narrowed. Inoue wasn't fooling anyone. Neither brave or daring, he built himself off of others. Taking a sudden absence was nothing out of the ordinary, but on the guise of business, that was another thing altogether. Kagura knew men; their motivations and pride were things she had to pick up along the way. Things she would rather trade in for a normalcy.

Inoue smiled. “Kagura, just do this favor for me. It shouldn’t be hard, a simple extortion. You can do that, can't you? You're a yato working under me. Do your job.”

“A simple extortion my ass!” She stood up, the chair falling to the floor. She'd been tolerating him for the past hour, but pestering her to go out after the last job was something else. “I know you, Inoue, just what do you need the money for, yes? Just like last night, endangering us for your own gains? The stupid cops almost caught us for your selfish needs! I don’t fight for your stupid causes, I fight for—”

“You lost that freedom a long time ago,” his expression never wavered, cocky and pride-less as ever. “I know where you stand. You were endangered out of your recklessness and inability to protect my men, and I expect compensation for that. A guard dog who’s told simple orders would protect their masters, right?"

Kagura's face twitched. “There was nothing for me to protect there—hell, I don’t know what I’m even protecting anymore. Don’t you dare go spouting that shit either. Keeping secrets from your own organization, sending us as worm food...”

“Don’t you get it?” A sick notion graced his lips, but his eyes didn’t gleam in the least.

She narrowed her own, untrusting of the laughter descending from his gut.

“There’s no place for amanto like you in samurai country...except for here.” A once discreet grin widened, enjoying the stricken look on her face. “Acceptance is earned, and as an amanto, Edo will never be that place for someone with your potential to belong.”

Beneath the table, her fists clenched. The same words, only phrased a million different times. Was it meant to hurt her the way it did? Edo was nowhere near a friendly place; she realized that way sooner than she thought. She might not be able to escape her stupid “duty” yet she could escape this: the dissatisfaction of being looked down upon.

...If only it were so easy.

“About that assignment next month…”

She let the pause simmer, thoughts firing. Possibility after possibility. He was going to pile work in between the span of today and tomorrow, chasing her conscience all the way into next month. If he was telling her this ahead of time, it had to be important for all of the wrong reasons.

But did she really have a say...? Kagura sucked a breath.

Inoue was a coward, but so was she. 

“Whatever. I’ll do it, you ugly perm.” She wanted to reject him, punch his smug face, beat him back to his degenerate status. Nothing could amount to her pent-up tolerance for that bastard, or to how much she wanted out on all of this.

It was a wish she’s been closing her eyes and dreaming about for far too long. The Yakuza wasn’t a place for brats, and she wanted no part of it. Kagura swiped her umbrella. She wasn't going to wait around to be dismissed like he owned her.

Because he didn't.

“Pleasure having you still on our side, Kagura,” he called. Kagura looked back and rattled the door shut. As humid as it was outside, her body temperature scaled a couple notches down.

She drew a sigh.

Finally out of Inoue’s office, feet violently clapped against the stairs, fist clenched in between her umbrella. With the sun beating against her skin, she opened the umbrella, walking wherever the hell she figured would take her mind off of things. The answer being nothing short of the obvious: someplace with food. Her assignment was early tomorrow morning and she doubted with recent events, Inoue would stand for tardiness. Especially if she was tardy again because “I didn’t have 10 items or less for the express line!”.

Though what bothered her the most was Inoue’s insistence. Hell, if he was going too, he needed her. He could handle tour guiding the newbie himself too for all she cared. Always piling work on her, what a bastard of a boss.

Just another typical day on earth.

The road opened up to dirty streets and casual pedestrians strolling along the  infamous, above-ground, red-light district of Kabuki. In the midst of the sun’s high appearance, traffic was slowed until nighttime, at least as far as Kagura was concerned. Though, the perpetual boisterous laughter and slap-of-the-knee jokes were never missed even in the daylight. Kagura certainly didn’t leave that small detail unnoticed; in fact, it was inviting. Maybe this relocation wasn’t so bad.

She strolled into the convenience store and marched up to the counter, slapping what little money she had in front of the cashier. What the fuck? Did this guy have a perm too?

“Cramps! Can I get this for 200 yen?” She grabbed the closest box to her. The plastic inside crinkled—it was half open.

"Ah, Gin-san!" A plain boy turned to his boss. "There's a customer waiting."

The boss had his back was to her, but even at  his invocation, he didn’t turn to greet her. She folded her arms and subconsciously leaned into her stance, her foot tapping away. Some shitty service.

The one with the white perm shifted towards his friend, leaning closer to him. “What? What did that brat call me? ‘Cramps’?”

"I can hear you."

“No, Gin-san, I think she means ‘Gramps’.” His friend turned around, adjusting the frames of his glasses. “It must be your white hair.”

Kagura watched the perm head stiffen, right before a loud _crunch._  ‘Gintoki’, his nametag flashing, turned around with nmaibo in one hand, an accusatory finger pointed at Kagura with his other. “Listen up! I’m no grandpa, brat! I’m the manager!”

Kagura bit her tongue in recognition. _It's that wavy-haired samurai begging for toiletries with 300 yen (that was mentioned in chapter 1)!_

The glasses raised his hands on cue, hysterically crying at his companion. “Gin-san! You’ll get Hasegawa-san fired again!”

Gintoki ignored him. “Besides, this hair is silver! Silver!” His munching grew louder.

Inwardly, Kagura laughed at their antics. Though, instead of showing her pleasure, she slammed a hand on the desk, reaching out to the perm head. As funny as these losers were there was just one thing she couldn’t let go...She was hungry and irritable—no way in hell was she cutting time for these low-wage workers.

“Oi!” She screamed, a free hand waving gallantly, “Hand me some of that nmaibo!”

“Weren’t you trying to pay for something else?!” ‘Shinpachi yelled.

“If you are going to be a lazy ass perm, hand over the nmaibo, yes?!”

Gintoki shoved the crunchy snack in his mouth hurriedly, munching obnoxiously loud, mouth bloated. “No—way—” he spat crumbs all over an expressionless Kagura. She slapped his hand and yanked at his hair. One of her legs were swung on top of the counter as the other one steadied itself on the ground. “You think I'll let you have—it? You'll—never-take-me-alive!” He swallowed it, flicking the crumbs off of his face, using his palm to shove the flailing yato away, clearly victorious.

Shinpachi, inexpressive and glasses glossed over, took the mop and began mopping the floors as far as possible from them. Kagura couldn’t blame him, but she sure as hell blamed Gintoki.

“You...You have declared war.” Determination set in her eyes, Kagura snatched back her money and wiped her face free from crumbs. “I have had enough of this! It can’t be helped yes?” She grabbed the closest thing by the counter—a red box— and turned around. Their eyes locked, Kagura’s dangerously glinting in the low-budget lighting and Gintoki’s widening.

Kagura couldn’t help but quirk a grin. “See ya, suckers! Bwahahah!”

And then she ran.

From yards behind her, Gintoki coughed and slammed his hands against the counter. Kagura grinned maniacally hoping he was choking on the fruits of his 'victory.'

_That’ll teach him to mess with the queen!_

“Sh—Sh—” Shinpachi looked up, Kagura laughing as the convenience store doors opened. “SHINPACHI! AFTER HER!”

* * *

Were it some stroke of luck, Okita Sougo happened to be loitering around the park for a routinely patrol. He noted to kill Hijikata later—he had been the reason for the extra tack on to the chore.

Were it also some stroke of luck (though Sougo would argue it was nothing but misfortune) that a Chinese cosplayer happened to ruin the peace with her brash attitude and sailor language that very hour.

If she knew a China girl would rush into the park, panting, crying wolf, and _clearly_ suspicious, he might have skipped the park on his route. It was his misfortune not to miss the way the wind carried her dragon spirit and striking hair wherever it swept. 

Of all the seven lucky gods to invertly grace the damn woman, Benzaiten just had to slack off. The China girl was everything short of eloquence, after beating up a kid or two (which Sougo found highly amusing and out of his hands), and resolving to hide out into the bushes when the Yorozuya boss and resident Glasses ran by, Sougo wondered what type of monkeys raised her.

Monkey or not, the girl was a far cry from innocent. As the Shinsengumi first captain, his duty was to turn in criminals. It was both a pastime and job. A hand stuffed in his pocket, ready to whip out his absolute favorite restraints—handcuffs—Sougo walked around the row of bushes and found the obscure path in between.

Grown out, chest-length hair half-shaded by her umbrella, crouched legs tucked under her lean frame. An innocuous gazelle to a lion.

“Oi, China girl,” he grabbed her wrist and handcuffed it successfully. “Come in quietly, won’t you?” She gasped and turned, her significantly blue eyes wide but quick. They made a double take at the situation, kicking upwards once she saw Sougo move his hand forward.

"You'll....you'll never take me alive!"

He winced and leaned back, glaring intense daggers at her small figure, poised with grace and posture.

Guess she wasn't so helpless. He would concede that much.

Reactively, his hand shot for his sword, as she did with her umbrella, a tool he had recognized from his studies. That, and the stories of Umibozu.

_Yato._

He was more than familiar than Umibozu’s strength, cooperating with him on several occasions to coordinate against alien attacks. Edo was that type of place. Forget looks, her thick-blodded pedigree was the threat here. 

Katana raised in a front guard, her umbrella and stance ready to strike, they assessed the other. Some sort of panic swayed in her impatient ticks. She was annoyed, probably to have gotten caught, but nevertheless, her hold on her umbrella showed a determined grip. Both a blessing and a curse to have someone willing to fight him. Though he couldn’t lie; if she was birthed as one of the universe’s strongest clansmen, what the hell was this brat doing on earth, sparring with a policeman?

It baffled him.

Right now, the only joy he had in looking at her was her obvious struggle, picking at the metal every time the brat thought he wasn't looking. Not like it was a bad thing, though her only credibility, he noted, was that she didn’t try to run away.

“Real criminals make it this far only to run away, their tails tucked between their legs,” he scanned her face, a face full of fierce and obnoxious expression. “Only, you're not a criminal are you? Didn’t you know? You messed up the moment someone saw your face, amateur.” He hadn’t forgotten Boss’ hollering down the street, shouting bloody illegal alien murder. Something he both agreed but disagreed on.

A woman as up in the air about what to do next, he figured, didn’t have the will to murder. _Come on, just hand yourself over._

She narrowed her eyes, and soon enough, spit made it to his shoes. Sougo looked down, eye twitching at the mess she had made.

“You’re asking for a fight, yes?” She carefully assessed him, but her eyes went as far as looking at his katana. Unless he was wrong, he was almost sure that she was more amused than serious about her threat. It took a moment’s notice when she was already at him, their weapons clashing. “As you wish, government dog.”

Sougo’s katana clanged resoundly with her umbrella, and reciprocated in the dance the yato had started. He lunged, she dodged and sprayed the lawn with bullets, scathing him in his blind spot. Wasting no moment, Sougo balanced himself, stepped diagonally towards her, slicing a few red threads. Their eyes met and Sougo taunted, "Let's end this quickly then." She swung low, he swept his legs beneath her. They collapsed easily underneath her, one of them weaker than the other. With his opponent on her back, Sougo wasted no time to swing a leg on her stomach, kneeling to look at her closely.  

Throughout their entire fight, her expression never faded, and here she was, up close and still _angry._ “Do you ever smile? There’s gotta be some fun to stealing, right?” Her hand shot up to punch his lower stomach, a jab he easily dodged. She let her hand linger before realizing, falling off to the side.  

“There’s got to be some fun to _murder_ for you dogs, too, right? Damn sadist.” She grumbled bitterly, motioning to the pressure he was putting on her arms.

“Interesting,” he stretched a free arm, holding the other end of her handcuffs to her other wrist. He was half disappointed when her cuffed wrist weakly moved. Beating a yato at its reason for existing wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, but if it wasn’t on there before, it was now.  

“But I have no time for ‘interesting’. Any last words before you accept defeat?”

He took a look at her leg, the material scrunched up, revealing a bandage over a wound. Clearly, she hadn’t changed her bandage, a circular gash dying it red.

A bullet wound and graze. They looked new and nearly healed from biological abilities and yet the sight was just a pin’s stabbing away.

Wait...could it be?

When she said nothing, he stopped short once realization snapped him out of his thoughts.

One way or another, the brat got herself free.

His eyes widened, looking at the empty end of the handcuffs—damn, he let his thoughts get to him—and moved to secure her. What he got was a punch to the face and her entire body weight on him before she leapt off his head.

More to herself than anything, she grumbled, “All of this for some sukonbu?” and wasted no time to speed off too far off for Sougo to defer rest. The first captain sighed, crouched low, and inspected the metal, sprawled and empty against the grass.

The most he could do now was seethe bitterly.

In retrospect, he should’ve seen it. While the brat might’ve been a moron, he should’ve known that she too knew how to play her cards well, wasting no punch or kick without any expected reaction. Given the situation, throwing a jab where it was weak would’ve been stupid, especially in the eyes of a high-ranking officer like him.

The way her hands fell easily pick-pocketed the key in his pocket. How she knew where it was, he didn’t know, but he did know one thing for sure: he didn’t lie when he said she was interesting.

 _Sloppy as hell_ too.

Last night's mess might've been the one thing she managed to put wool over, right up until this moment. Who would’ve thought he found an additional suspect from the unexpected slaughter? She seemed capable enough after all. He stood up. Perhaps she’d be more apt to talking than her compatriots.

“Souichirou!”

Sougo didn’t have to turn around to answer, “It’s Sougo. Took you long enough, Danna.”

“What? You’re a tax robber aren’t you? Have ya’ seen a Chinese cosplayer around here somewhere? You know, Chun Li!” Gintoki asked, sweat dripping from his forehead. Sougo vaguely remembered when the Yorozuya boss came sprinting past, his screeching glasses in tow. That man was a public disturbance altogether, but in spite of that, he sure took his time to report the robbery.

“She got away,” he picked up the empty handcuffs from the ground to stand and look at the Yorozuya boss.  “Although I have plenty reason to arrest you, letting a low-class thief get away with robbery? Hijikata-san would have a fit over this. Fortunately, we have a criminal right here to take that woman's place.” The handcuffs echoed its soft click as they fastened around Gintoki’s wrists.

Gintoki craned his head around, sweat soaking his face and clothes in-and-out. “S-S-Souichirou-kuuuuuun,” he said, his hands trying to wring themselves free. "You know it's not good to lie, right? Your mama raised you to tell the truth, right? Gin-san is the victim here!"

“Then how 'bout testifying what you saw today,” Sougo’s expression darkened, “in exchange for

your freedom?"

* * *

At the Shinsengumi HQ, the first one to greet them was a spluttering Vice-chief, his cigarette two stomps away from getting blown out.

"You brought this perm headed bum?!" Oh. He had forgotten to call in the arrest. No matter, as long as it meant Hijikata’s suffering, he was glad to bring anything to mess up the vice-chief’s day. For better or for worse, it also meant the boss’s suffering.

Today really was boss's bad luck and Sougo couldn't have been more proud to add onto that. 

"You brought me to this V-shaped bang cop?! Are you insane?! Is this the death penalty? His mayonnaise addiction has everyone gasping for air! Lawyer! I want my lawyer!"

"Just what do you think you're doing, insulting God's greatest creation, huh?! You were bound to be arrested, diabetic trash should shut their mouth."

“Just you wait until I get my glasses-stand of a bro to bust me out, tax robber!”

Sougo looked between them and shrugged. He pushed Gintoki."Well, well, I know a felon when I see one. And this one here's a big-time fella. Bring him for questioning." Gintoki fell onto the ground, not without loud protests and angry shouts, all courtesy of the first captain of course.

Struggling to stand up, Gintoki huffed indignantly, “You tax robbers better remember this! I was a victim!” Sougo didn’t spare him a glance, walking past them.

"Oi! Sougo!" Hijikata jabbed a thumb at Gintoki. "Don't leave me with this low life!"

"Who're you calling a low life, chainsmoker?! Leave me out of this, in fact, unlock the cuffs already!"

Sougo slid open the door. _Ah, now that the 'get-revenge-on-that-bastard' plan is checked out, time to check another thing out..._

He saluted some of his officers on the way in, but opened a second door to a place he hadn't been interested in looking into for a long time. Some gut feeling told him that he’d find what he was looking for here, if not anywhere else.

The green books were given only a glance as Sougo paced down the racks of records.

_...how exactly to take down that woman._

 


	3. Unless you have a perm, haircuts have nothing to do with a criminal record!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” Yamazaki cried, Shinpachi unpacking the plastic bag’s contents. When Shinpachi looked up, he froze.
> 
> “You!” He stuck a finger straight at Kagura, who reacted by deadpanning at the accusation. “Gin-san got arrested for trying to stop you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 2.5**
> 
> At long last, I update this and boom, nothing actually happens. Sike, no okikagu interaction either. But this means that the next part's coming up soon so have this to hold you over with the info-gaps being filled in from previous chapter. Woohoo.
> 
> Notes: I try to be funny. But. It isn't. So. I'll call this a light chapter. This also references to the Tama arc as a different form where nothing happens.
> 
> Denpa manju = referencing that episode where Catherine(?) suggested selling manju (snack) that looked like Gintoki. So denpa manju is a snack that looks like Gintoki.

 

Whenever Yamazaki and Kagura passed Snack Otose, the poor boy would glance from the window of one building, to the window of the snack house. Kagura ignored it, who knew how horny people could get, but when Tama stepped out to sweep the road and fix the lights, Yamazaki reacted stupider than usual. They greeted her, mostly because of their familiarity of the other, and went on their way.

 

Trifling and petty, if Kagura didn’t know any better, the bundle nerves that was the existence of Yamazaki fell into a pit of hopeless, deep puppy love. She knew it after two weeks of turning a blind eye to it, and incidentally, the moment it hit her was the moment laughter bubbled in her throat.

 

Tama would be quite the catch for him. 

 

Then, she resolved, that she'd take it upon herself to set him up. That would explain why she was dragging a half-dead, still-breathing corpse across the roads.

 

“Zaki, quit being a sissy. It's just a robot lady!” Kagura strolled up to Snack Otose and pulled the door aside. “Hello? Tama?”

 

“Cut it out! You're the second to last person I want to do this!” Yamazaki hopped to his feet and sprinted ahead of her, in vain hopes of pushing her back. Too late, the green-haired robot lifted her gaze to the visitors.

 

“Ah, Kagura-sama.” Yamazaki pulled his face back. He knew, as a robot, that Tama-san was a smart woman as she was kind, but nevertheless, stupefied by her immediate knowledge. She’d have to be omniscient to know that.  

 

_Don’t tell me...she’s a...a...super robot?!_

 

Kagura smiled and sat on a stool by her. “How are you? Is that animal Catherine beating you?”

 

“No, but she is trying to sell denpa manju. Sales dropped last week, when the face of it got arrested,” she shook her head, grave.  

 

“Horrible! He must've been an innocent man!”

 

“Indeed. Gintoki-sama, however, was released the next day.” Kagura’s eyebrows raised at the mention of the Yorozuya boss, but forfeited to balk. Yamazaki wondered why. Finally, when she opened her mouth to reply, it hit Yamazaki with a clarified sense of rationality.

 

“Wait a second…!” Mouth unattractively agape, he pointed back and forth between the two of them. “You two know each other?!”

 

Kagura rested her cheek against her knuckles. “Took you long enough. I pulled her out of a fire wreckage a year ago. Man, all those robot maids!”

 

“Yes. I am indebted to the people here and Kagura-sama.”

 

Yamazaki watched as Tama glowed next to a dozing-off yakuza woman He couldn't help but ask, “Do you even know what she does in her free time?”

 

Tama set down a glass of juice - Yamazaki chose not to comment on Kagura’s childish tastes - and water for himself. Shakily, he took it.

 

Looking at her from over the clear lens of the glass, Yamazaki forced himself to relax. Hell, guess she wasn’t a super robot then. Still, surviving a fire? Just how first-class was she?

 

Kagura dismissed Yamazaki as soon as she answered him—ironic considering her original plans—and she continued to chat with Tama. Whatever. At least Kagura had a conscience to do the right, sane thing.

 

The door rattled, pushed open to reveal three people, bags of food clutched in their hands. “No, no, I’m telling you, Tama manju would sell much better than denpa’s would!”

 

“Nobody gave you permission to sell it in the first place!” Shinpachi retorted. “Enough already, I’m going home. Do you have any idea when Gin-san’ll come back? When I went down to the station, Kondo-san didn't even seem to know he was there.”

 

“Who knows,” Otose settled behind the counter, nodding to Kagura and Yamazaki. “Looks like we really should go with Tama manju then.” She brought whatever she carried into a backroom, out of sight from them, Tama offering to help, following close behind.

 

Left with Shinpachi and Catherine, Kagura slapped Yamazaki’s arm, directing his attention to Shinpachi. “Look, Yamazaki, that would be you in glasses!”

 

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” Yamazaki cried, Shinpachi unpacking the plastic bag’s contents. When Shinpachi looked up, he froze.

 

_Oh no. Is he gonna blow my cover?!_

 

“You!” He stuck a finger straight at Kagura, who reacted by deadpanning at the accusation. “Gin-san got arrested for trying to _stop_ you!”

 

Catherine cackled, “I knew _you_ ’d be trouble!”

 

Yamazaki blew a sigh, relief washed over him. For now, he was safe.

 

“Shut up, like that’s any of my problem, glasses,” Kagura rolled her eyes, flicking his pointer finger away. “You can blame his perm for that.”

 

“I agree. Only curly-haired cheapskates are true suspects!” Catherine proclaimed.

 

“Haircuts have nothing to do with it! Yamazaki-san, what’re you doing? This is where you’re supposed to prove yourself!”

 

Kagura snapped to Yamazaki, eyeing him with distrust. Tugging at his blue hakama top, he laughed lamely, “W-what’re you talking about?”

 

“Yeah, how dare you accuse Yamazaki!” Kagura drew back from him, now clenching her fist at the other boy.

 

That storm had passed over faster than he expected.

 

Shinpachi furrowed his brows and Yamazaki took it as a cue to whisk an arm around the other plain boy, explaining his situation as concise and hushed as he could. Thankfully, at the end of his explanation, Shinpachi understood him, nodding along. In turn, Yamazaki asked what had transpired between the Yorozuya and Kagura, the answer being as Shinpachi had told him: she stole something but the boss got arrested for it.

 

By the time they reached an understanding of the other, he let go of him, coughed loud and superfluous, “T-thank you for t-telling me where the ozone herb is [1]!”

 

Rigidly, Shinpachi fixed and pushed his glasses as if it were nodding, “Totally!”

 

“What’re they acting so weird for?” Catherine shot them a confused look, Kagura shrugging. Standing up, Kagura walked out the door, waving. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Tell Tama and Otose-san to expect me again soon! Oh, and Glasses,” she waited at the door, Yamazaki pushing himself off the seat to follow her back.

 

Shinpachi sweatdropped, “Why does nobody take my existence seriously?”

 

“Tell Gin-chan to quit eating so much sweets. I smell it in his breath, gross.”

 

Yamazaki looked at her, utterly lost, “‘Gin-chan’? Since when you were buddy-buddy with the man you framed!”

 

“That’s right! There’s something wrong with that!” Shinpachi agreed, linking pity eyes to Yamazaki. Grateful for his brother in plainness’ encouragement, Yamazaki swallowed, and nodded back.

 

Kagura shoved the door and opened up her parasol, “See you~” From beyond the door, the three of them could hear Kagura stop in her tracks, “Wait. I forgot to set  you up with Tama!” Before watching Yamazaki’s figure dart far away in guessed embarrassment.

 

Shinpachi really did pity him.

 

By the time Yamazaki and Kagura left the snack house, Otose recalled, “That’s odd, I thought you would’ve recognized her. She comes by here to visit Tama and talk to your sister sometimes. You’re a real idiot for not noticing.”

 

Shinpachi, who was in the midst of gathering his bags before leaving, widened his eyes.“Are you kidding?! That thief fraternizes with _Aneue_?!”

 

Catherine rolled her eyes, a cackle falling out of the corners of her ridiculous smirk. “That’s just what Otose-san said, sis-con. But, Shinpachi-kun, I didn’t know you had a glasses-less older brother!”

 

“Please stop.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I wrote this waaay long ago (last year?) and I'm not entirely sure where this is going. I have the third chapter typed up though, so expect that soon? 
> 
> One day I'll edit this to make better sense.
> 
> [1] Ozone herb - Toriko reference to a heavenly herb. It's apparently delicious.

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Reference to Boku dake ga Inai Machi, the main character's ability to go back in time to rescue someone from an ill-fated event.
> 
> Disclaimer: I've taken liberties about the yakuza and other information. Accuracy isn't the focal point.
> 
> *cough* Will they meet next chapter? *cough*


End file.
